Chapter 58
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Emmeline
The cheer of the Revels was wrong. How could everyone be celebrating when there’d been so much tragedy? But Emmeline supposed those who didn’t know the victims were celebrating a threat being caught.
That Roremar was imprisoned.
As she stood at the back of the crowd and monitored the group of students she was assigned to, she felt as though she was hovering above it all. Observing the scene, but not truly present.
The way the smoke of the bonfire at the end of the Promenade spiraled into the chilling night air. The way the stained-glass lanterns cast vibrant colors on grinning faces. The way drinks were passed and toasts made.
Emmeline tipped her face up, seeking the constellations, telling them of her pain, her confusion and worries. She gave it all to them as numbness seeped along her bones. Through her teary eyes, the constellations looked broken. Just as everything was.
She barely lasted the two hours she was supposed to chaperone, hurrying back to the Academy as soon as she was done. Just as she hiked up the tree-lined hill to the gates, footsteps hollow in the pools of yellow lantern light, the silvered bars marking the entrance to the grounds swung open.
Regina ran out, holding a cloak tight around her shoulders. “I was heading out to look for you.”
“What’s wrong?” Emmeline asked, mind flashing to Myrella.
“Nothing,” the history instructor reassured, but her shoulders hiked up at the word, the crease in her brow deepening. “Nothing else, I should say. I checked on Myrella a little while ago and she was asleep.”
“That’s good.” Emmeline sighed.
As they moved back into the warmth of the Academy, mystlights dimmed and flickering over the stones, Regina looked at Emmeline, and her heart twisted.
Not because she didn’t want to be seen, but because she’d gotten so used to Roremar seeing through all her defenses, and she knew right now, Regina wouldn’t.
“Shouldn’t you be at the Revels?” Emmeline asked to distract herself from the wrench in her gut.
Regina shook her head, one lock of dark curls slipping out from the messy knot she’d pinned back.
“I did an earlier shift then wanted to catch up on work.” She brushed the hair behind her ear and held up a stack of papers Emmeline hadn’t noticed.
“I know it’s probably pointless now, but I thought you might want these. ”
Emmeline took them as they passed the library, heading for the wing housing the instructors’ dormitories, expecting late papers and not truly caring right now. “What are they?”
“It’s about the research you asked me to do.”
“Research?”
“On Lyra’s cult history.”
Emmeline stopped in her tracks, heart inflating for a moment. It quickly punctured. Shaking her head, she resumed walking. “Thank you for looking into it, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Regina’s heart-shaped lips pressed into a line. “I figured you’d say that, but I found some new stuff the other day and finally dug into it tonight. About that first symbol you brought me with the wings and roses.”
“The Warders of Selene,” Emmeline said.
Regina nodded. “I told you I’d seen a similar symbol when I was hiking to that supposed Angelic temple.
I didn’t want to go back alone, so I pulled some books on ancient ruins.
There are variations of the artistic wings all over history.
If the place hadn’t been wrecked, I’m sure I would have found more the first time. ”
“What do you mean by variations?”
“Some in the style you found, some with stars or lightning. A lot of different interpretations. I noted it all down for you, but that’s where it got interesting.”
Emmeline glanced down at the papers. “Interesting how?”
“The different renditions reminded me of Fates, and we know that site is one of the oldest to exist on the isles. It seems to be deeply rooted to them.” Regina had told them originally some of the nearby cave drawings were second oldest to Gemmi, the isle of secret caverns.
Who was to say this temple itself wasn’t, too?
“I also found one article that references Selene.”
That had Emmeline’s heart beating again. “What? Who was she?”
“She was a three-pronged being, supposedly—a figure more than real person. She encompassed the Goddess of Fate and Celestial Movements, the Angel Valyrie, and a third, unknown being. Evidence implies that particular Angelic temple ruin was dedicated to her.”
Emmeline flipped through the transcriptions as Regina spoke, reading the words for herself. Sure enough, it was all there.
Had Selene been a living figure connected to all three? A symbol? She couldn’t be sure. But there was a reference to her position in history, finally. Only…
It was too late. They’d gotten an answer, and it was too late.
Emmeline sighed, folding the papers to avoid disappointing herself further. “I appreciate the work, but they already know who’s responsible for the murders.”
“Maybe it can help provide you or Myrella some clarity.” Regina’s features were cool in the blue glow from the stained glass lining the hall to their dormitories.
The two women stopped at the entrance to the stairs.
“I don’t know what a lot of it means, but closure is a good thing. Something all of us deserve.”
Emmeline swallowed the lump in her throat and held the notes tighter. “Thank you.”
“I should go. I told Charisse I’d meet her for a drink at the Star’s Luck Tavern. Do you want to come?”
The invitation stretched out to one of the pieces of Emmeline that went cold today, but she said, “I’m okay. Thank you for the offer.”
Regina squeezed her arm and turned down the hall. Just before she rounded the corner, Emmeline called out, “How is she? Charisse?”
Regina looked over her shoulder. “She’s healing. We all are. We’ll get there.”
Emmeline nodded at her, too afraid to say that she wasn’t sure how she would, and the history instructor left.
She didn’t have it in her to look at the research right now. As she climbed the steps to the instructors’ hall, all she wanted was to sink into her bed and sleep for hours. Hopefully she wouldn’t dream tonight. She didn’t think her heart could take it.
Emmeline stepped into the second-floor corridor and spotted two shadowed forms seated against the wall near her door.
“What are you doing up here?” she asked. “The Temple Master wants everyone at the opening—oh.” She paused when the faces of the children came into light, what strength she still had threatening to crumble. “Leo, Vivienne.”
“Hi, Emmeline,” the boy said. His sister clung silently to his side, both of their eyes red.
“What are you two doing here?” she repeated, softer this time as she knelt before them. The corridor was drafty, and their red-knuckled hands were locked tightly together as if they’d been waiting here for some time. Reaching out, she took each of their free ones.
“We found out where your room is from some of the students. Sorry about that,” he muttered.
“Don’t be sorry,” she insisted, squeezing warmth into his cold fingers. “Why are you here, though? Where are your mother and Siena?”
“They’re sleeping. We have a suite near our uncle’s. Everyone knows we’re related to him now.”
“But everything is all wrong,” Vivienne cried, cheeks pink and braids messy. Emmeline fought her own tears.
“It is all wrong,” she agreed as an ache twisted her chest. “I know it is. I’m so sorry for what’s happened.” She hugged them both, wishing she could absorb their pain. They didn’t deserve all the ghosts that haunted their family.
When they pulled back, Leo squared his slim shoulders. “I’m the man of the house now, and I need to fix this. Roremar always fixed everything.”
“Oh, Leo,” Emmeline said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
He looked for all the Fates like he was barely holding it together, his lip trembling, spine curving in.
“You’re still so young. I know it may not feel like it, but you should get to be a kid a while longer, not have to take on that responsibility. ”
“Roremar always fixed things,” he repeated as if it had become his mantra.
“I don’t know how we can fix this,” she admitted.
“It has to get fixed. Roremar wouldn’t have done this. He always kept us safe. He wouldn’t hurt Nico.” Leo’s voice cracked on his brother’s name, and Emmeline couldn’t stop her tears now.
Couldn’t stop the agony that consumed her as Leo voiced the one thing she’d been trying to understand all day. But it was true. The evidence was there, and yet Roremar couldn’t have done this.
Not again, he’d repeated when Emmeline found him, pure shock and despair in his words. This can’t have happened. He had begged and implored the Angels.
“We need your help, Emmeline,” Vivienne pleaded.
Emmeline thought of the man who had pried his way into her heart despite her strongest efforts.
Her chest tugged, a thread she tried to deny pulling sharply.
She thought of the man who had the reckless reputation but approached situations with careful consideration, who was nothing like what she expected, but so much more.
And she admitted she couldn’t see a fate in which his hands were responsible for this, despite the facts that stacked up against him. Because throughout them all, one crucial piece was missing—the one they’d been trying to find for weeks.
Motive.
There was no reason why Roremar would have committed these crimes. But for some reason, he was allowing himself to rot in a cell for them.
With his siblings before her, wide eyes so innocent and pleading, she couldn’t force herself to accept it was true.
“I promise,” she whispered, squeezing both of their hands again. “I will do everything I can to fix this.”